His manner was that of the most respectful, but the most infatuated of lovers.
Her reflections were interrupted by the entrance of her maid, bringing a large bouquet of roses which had just been sent by Martial.
She took the flowers, and while arranging them in a large Japanese vase, she bedewed them with the first real sincere tears she had shed since her entrance into the world.
She was so pale and sad, so unlike herself when she appeared the next morning at breakfast, that Aunt Medea was alarmed.
Mlle.

Blanche had prepared an excuse, and she uttered it in such sweet tones that the poor lady was as much amazed as if she had witnessed a miracle.
M.de Courtornieu was no less astonished.
"Of what new freak is this doleful face the preface ?" he wondered.
He was still more alarmed when, immediately after breakfast, his daughter asked a moment's conversation with him.
She followed him into his study, and as soon as they were alone, without giving her father time to seat himself, Mlle.

Blanche entreated him to tell her all that had passed between the Duc de Sairmeuse and himself, and asked if Martial had been informed of the intended alliance, and what he had replied.
Her voice was meek, her eyes tearful; her manner indicated the most intense anxiety.
The marquis was delighted.
"My wilful daughter has been playing with fire," he thought, stroking his chin caressingly; "and upon my word, she has burned herself." "Yesterday, my child," he replied, "the Duc de Sairmeuse formally demanded your hand on behalf of his son; your consent is all that is lacking.

So rest easy, my beautiful, lovelorn damsel--you will be a duchess." She hid her face in her hands to conceal her blushes.
"You know my decision, father," she faltered, in an almost inaudible voice; "we must make haste." He started back, thinking he had not heard her words aright.
"Make haste!" he repeated.
"Yes, father.

I have fears." "What fears, in Heaven's name ?" "I will tell you when everything is settled," she replied, as she made her escape from the room.
She did not doubt the reports which had reached her ears, of Martial's frequent visits to Marie-Anne, but she wished to see for herself.
So, as soon as she left her father, she obliged Aunt Medea to dress herself, and without vouchsafing a single word of explanation, took her with her to the Reche, and stationed herself where she could command a view of M.Lacheneur's house.
It chanced to be the very day on which M.d'Escorval came to ask an explanation from his friend.